Some Things Linger
by just another emo fangirl
Summary: The Washington's decide to adopt children. Lafayette, then Alexander and John. They're all... A little messed up. Luckily, the Washington's aren't seeking perfection, they're only looking for a family. The question is: What happens when their pasts emerge again with a vengeance? {Trigger warnings will be placed at the beginning of chapters.} Lams, Mullette, Goerge/Martha, others.
1. George and Martha

The Washingtons were a loving couple. They were high school sweethearts, together since sophomore year. They were the definition of domestic bliss. Martha cooked and cleaned, content with her life. George would go to work and be a politician. The only honest politician.

He'd come home tired and frustrated and Martha would bake cookies and let him rant about his day. She'd nod and lean on his shoulder.

They had two canines, one named General, that would sit in a little white fluff ball on Martha's skirt. The other was Waffle, a proud ex-police dog that was a well trained and kind unless threatened. The pups were both rescues.

The Washingtons were good people.

Did they make their fair share of mistakes? Of course. Did they argue? Not often, but yes. In the end, they loved each other dearly.

One night the two sat on the couch and spoke for hours. They wanted a family. They were going to try for children.

They tried. They got the test. Negative. They tried. They got the test. Negative. Rinse, wash and repeat. They were close to calling the doctor now.

Then,

POSITIVE!

They were so ecstatic.

They went to the doctor, smiles still plastered on their faces.

They saw the professional's face and the room dulled. The doctor said: Martha and George could not have children. It was completely unsafe for her to carry a baby. If she did, she or the baby or both would die. What had they done to deserve this? Martha took another test. Negative.

It took awhile for everything to be okay again. It took a year before they thought of adoption as an option. They decided to start with foreign exchange. George, being close friends with Samuel Seabury, who aged out of foster care, did not want to adopt just babies and toddlers.

He and Martha both agreed on this and when he told the missionary, he was beyond happy. Sam and his husband had already adopted a little girl and had their hands full. They were going to wait until she was older to adopt more children, but goodness, he was happy to help them in any way he could!

The first boy that walked into the estate was tall, thin and French. He was outgoing and smart... But they always got the sense he never wanted to go back to France. He was always seemingly hiding something. That's Lafayette, though. Maybe, they'll never know...

The second boy was always paranoid and writing. He was short and all skin and bones. Always ate like someone was going to steal his food from him. They lived off coffee and books for the most part. That is Alexander, obviously.

the last, but certainly not the least is the one Alexander always talked about. He went to Alexander and Lafayette's school before he went to live with the Washingtons. He spends his time sketching, barely talking. He has a bad habit of running away and stealing alcohol. He's got quite a few bad habits... John is his name.

They all have their tragic stories. Just be careful, they may be safe now... But the effects linger and secrets aren't easily kept.


	2. Lafayette

**{Trigger warning! Attempted suicide, trans charcter going through disphoria and other struggles.}**

Born as Gabrielle Marie Lafayette, he was simply never right. You see, 'she' was a boy. They simply knew that they were not meant to be this way...

He started to go by 'Laf' and 'Mars' at five. Started dressing more masculine at seven. Found out he was never a 'she' at all and that he was a boy at ten. Started binding his chest with medical wrap at twelve {PS: This is never a good idea}. Packing started at fourteen.

Lafayette was an illegitimate child of a wealthy family. The youngest of four, he wasn't cared about. He was unwanted. His siblings pretended they didn't know him, his parents never spoke to him or of him. This was always how it was, but that was most spite in their eyes when they spared him glance now... Lafayette was smart and almost happy for a while. Though, when everyone still calls you she and your family thinks you're lesbian and hates more you for it... It's hard not to feel worthless.

Maybe he should just leave. Forever.

When he gets into heaven, they're gonig to fix the little mix up. They wrote simply, on a slip of paper:

 _'Bojour_ _, jusqu'à ce qu'on se revoie.'_

Until we meet again...

Lafayette ate what he believed to be his last meal of white wine and marshmallows. There was a certain resignation to it, he was almost pleased. He tossed the pills hand to hand.

Is this really what he wanted?

Laf looked down at the dining room's wooden floor. Some part of him wanted nothing more than to die. The French boy threw a few down his throat. Chugging some the drink. Not giving himself time to think. He repeated the process. Until he fell to the ground. He clutched his stomach, it felt like he swallowed hot oil. It burned.

Bile rose up his throat as he started coughing up a mix of blood, pills and white fragments. They were found by a maid.

Alive.

Soon, everyone knew. He wasn't Gabrielle De Antoinette Marie Lafayette anymore, he was the rich trans kid who tried to commit sucide. He wasn't a teenager, he was media's outlet for beliefs. he was just part of an event you cite to prove your point.

One news station used this as 'proof' that trangender people were unstable and mentally ill... Another used him like a sad rescue dog in those commercials they play on TV to make you feel bad.

That's when he decided he'd had enough.

No more than an week after getting out of the hospital, he signed up for a foreign exchange program. Lafayette was going to go to the United States and never leaving.

He wanted to live life as himself. Lafayette was going to be enough. Be who he was, but that meant no one could know.

The 'Female' on his report was a mistake, the pain in his ribs was from sports, his voice was high for a boy because... It just was and he didn't know how to swim. Laf would create other lies as he went along. He didn't like deceiving people, but he really just wanted to stay living this life of a cis man.

It was just easier, better...

That's what Lafayette thought at least, with his lack of pride.

He thought he had to keep it hidden.

 **{It gets better, I swear.}**


	3. Alexander

**{Mentions of Abuse, underage prostitution and suicide.}**

It was a humid summer evening in Nevis. Clouds grayed out the sky and Alexander was six years old. His Pa was knees deep in gambling debt and he figured if he didn't have a family to support, he could pay the people he owed.

Not that they were ever much of a family in the first place. He'd hit Alexander, his brother, and his mother. When the door slammed behind the man, Alexander flinched.

He was gone. Forever this time.

Some part of Alexander was relieved before he glanced at his mother. She was sprawled on the old couch, shards of glass still in her bloodied hair. She smiled sweetly at her son, holding back tears. The woman whispered something soothingly, as she coughed hoarsely.

He glanced up at her, seeing her eyes fade as she passed out. Alexander cleaned himself up, put on clean clothes, tidied the house, dumped out every trace that his dad left and put his only blanket on his mother.

He wanted to be a kid, but that was never a possibility.

Staring down at the notepaper he grabbed, the kid scribbled down that he was going to make some cash and come home.

That's what he did.

He worked odd jobs until he physically wasn't able to, when he came home, his mom was still sleeping or, rather, comatose. He was glad. She looked relaxed.

He got sick at eight. Alexander kept trying to care for his mother, who had fallen ill before him but only successfully got worse.

They just laid there, barely able to move. He coughed up phlegm and spent weeks in and out of consciousness. His mother was beside him in the same pale state.

He woke up in the middle of the night. Hamilton didn't hear his mother's strained breathing. He shook her shoulder. He begged her quietly to just wake up.

No breathing. No heartbeat.

Alexander screamed, his face red as he shook and sobbed.

He held onto her until morning.

Alexander was dragged away by his neighbor, he begged to just stay an die with her, but he wasn't sick.

He was all better. Alexander was spared, but not his mother.

Alexander considered himself an orphan after this, despite his father still possibly being alive.

His brother refused to speak with the younger. Clenching his fists and blaming Alexander for their mother's passing. His brother got an apprenticeship. Somewhere far away...

They'd most likely never speak again.

His mother was buried in a pauper's grave. Alexander visited every day before his cousin came to be his guardian and bring him to his new home.

His cousin treated him nicely. Some part of Alexander knew he shouldn't have gotten his hopes up though. He should've known it wouldn't last. He'd drink the same adult drink that Papa used to, but he would never ever hurt him… He'd just cry. Alexander would stare up at him, asking what he could do. The crying man said nothing. Just smiled back sadly.

His cousin's business was failing and his marriage had already done so. Alexander found him hanging the next morning.

He walked out of the barn numbly, walking to the coroner's office. Alexander informed the undertaker and walked in the other direction. Never to look back at the last place he ever thought he'd be alright.

He'd work until odd hours in the morning, landscaping, babysitting, selling things he could never buy.

When he was eleven, he got an offer for twenty-five an hour. He was young and excited by the prospect of over seven dollars an hour. Alexander was too little too understand what the man was asking.

The older man hurt him badly. Grabbed his wrists and treated him like nothing. He felt like nothing. Alexander cried for hours after. He didn't understand.

The man came back. He had no reason to say no. Alexander didn't think he was worth more than twenty-five dollars. The boy gained a reputation. Other people came around and he became desensitized.

Alexander or Lexi, god he hated that nickname, would work as a laborer during the daytime. In the off chance, he wasn't working, he'd read and write.

The foreign missionary was the first to care about him since his cousin. The man had a British accent. He smiled calmly, asking why someone so young was out so late. The man, probably early twenties, skipped the Bible talk, placing his holy book carefully on the pavement.

He didn't believe this guy actually had pure intentions. Hamilton gave an aggravated dismissal.

They tilted their head, then knelt down beside him. He asked the same question.

Working, he had hissed in response.

The British man pursed his lips, nodding. The guy couldn't leave well enough alone, so, he questioned why.

The boy kicked at the dirt, because he believed, admittedly, that he was worthless.

The man responsible was the old: Noone is.

Alexander scoffed.

He introduced himself as Samuel and offered him a hand to shake.

Hamilton clenched his teeth and crossed his arms, some sliver of him wanting to run away. As it always did.

Then a brief exchange occurred.

Do you want a better life? He had asked, Sam was just full of questions.

Of course, he did...

He said he knew a family that would take Alex in. He'll sponsor the boy. Hamilton could immigrate to the United States with Samuel.

His eyes widened, he stuttered. Proclaiming he really wasn't good enough. That Sam really didn't have to do this...

He rethought his word choice, did he want to leave this place? It seemed so simple to Sam.

Yes…

Sam grinned sweetly, he holds out his hand. Alex wordlessly decided he had nothing to lose.

Mr. Sebury began talking about his husband and little girl.

Alex was a bit confused, he always thought everyone like him was old fashioned. He'd always been kicked out of churches and other places of worship.

Sam gets him some fresh clothes and they go to the only good hospital in Nevis. Mostly reserved for tourists. He gets vaccines and tests. Luckily, Hamilton didn't contract anything serious. Though, he did have an infection.

They got on a plane, it finally registered that this was really happening. Alexander was going to have a new life. A good one.


	4. Frenchman's Arrival

**{Triggers: Mention of the suicide attempt.}**

It was early June and Lafayette was utterly terrified. All of this was new. He'd been on a flight to America and he, in the cramped airplane laboratory mirror, kept trying to make his binding tighter, voice deeper and packing more normal looking.

He trembled a bit with anxiety. What if they caught on? They probably would and... If forced himself to take a deep breath in and a deep breath out. He pushed all those feelings into his gut and convinced himself he'd be fine.

He was so relieved to see a happy couple waving and smiling with such a genuine happiness. They were holding a big poster-board sign that welcomed him to the USA. It even had little stars and American flag stickers.

A wave of relief filled him. Suddenly he realized this would be nothing like France. He'd have a family here. It was a nice warm feeling. "Hello," He said, regretting it since he'd forgotten his voice radiates estrogen. Washington's either didn't notice or didn't care.

They shook his hand and were practically bouncing with excitement. George was about six foot four, he'd be intimidating if it weren't for the happily goofy grin on his face. "Hi! Welcome!"

Martha clasped onto Lafayette's hands. "He took my line, but, oh, what do I say now? What do you want to eat?"

He was noticeably overwhelmed, despite his extroverted personality, "I... I don't know..."

They backed off quickly, realizing this was probably a huge transition. The Washingtons exchanged a glance and Martha perked up, "Well, I can make pizza! Teenagers like pizza, right?"

Laf couldn't help but giggle, "I think everyone likes pizza. All I can't have is hot drinks though, so you can make anything." His attempt had been thwarted and he didn't die but, the pills had messed up his stomach lining. It would heal eventually. Luckily enough, that was the worst of the physical damage.

He had other consequences, such as being on a watch list, that no one looks at. Clearly, shown by the fact he could travel alone. To another continent. Lafayette also had to speak with a therapist every Sunday. Over the phone.

The last thing the French boy wanted was for his issues to travel to this new place. A kind voice interrupted his thoughts, "Any toppings?"

"Oh, anything's fine!" He felt like he was treading on a landmine, as he often felt that way with his biological family. Lafayette became rather indecisive because of this, despite the fact he was in an open field now.

They got home and Mrs. Washington quickly ran off to the kitchen. General Fluffball followed at her heels. "You have dogs?"

Goerge perked up, "Yes, do you like them?" Laf nodded, because who doesn't love them? Monsters, that's who. "Waffles! Come meet your new friend!" The Dane trotted over in a military fashion. "He'll lighten up in a bit, just pet him behind the ears and he'll-" The doorbell rang. "Give me a second, would you?"

Mister Washington opened the door, two men stood there. One gave a forced smile, but the other went straight in for a hug. A little girl, about five years his junior, stood holding onto their hands. He hadn't noticed her at first glance. Leaf waved, having always had a soft spot for children. She smiled a bit and returned the gesture.

"Oh, you must be Lafayette," The blonde one chimed, retracting from the embrace. "I'm Samuel and this is my husband, Charles. Oh, and, of course, our daughter." He paused, "Say 'hi', Mary."

"Oh, hi..." She whispered. "Lafayette..." Mary murmured, trying out the word on her tongue. It came an out more as 'Af-a-yet', but he didn't mind.

They talked for a while, about how Samuel was heading to the Caribbean as a missionary. The guy definitely didn't seem like a Bible thumper. He and George talked forever like adults do.

Mary got bored and we went to go help Martha with dinner. Charles just sat antisocially, holding Sam's hand and barely speaking. Mary giggled, pointing at Charles who had fallen asleep on Sam's shoulder.

It felt surreal. It felt like a movie.

A nice little suburban family and two gay uncles. It was a bloody sitcom life. He smiled, getting the feeling he'd fit straight in. Well, not straight, but you get the point.

 **{Author's note: I'm horrendous at spelling and grammar. I also don't understand how betas work... I hope you don't hate this. Sorry for the plotless fluff.}**


	5. Sam's Advice

George had met Sam before he was a fairly well known elected official. The Washingtons were in their early thirty's when he moved into a home on the edge of New York. Sam was seventeen and never talked. Not like in a shy way, like in a mute way.

Martha and George didn't know why for quite a while, but he was a sweet boy. Not rebellious, nor standoffish. He'd simply write what he wanted to say. The kid slowly became an honorary member of the family. He'd spent most days at the Washingtons home.

Sam started talking eventually, with the help of a therapist, his few friends and, of course, Mr. and Mrs. Washinton.

His last foster family wasn't amazing, but it was the best in his experience. They had four biological children and if anything went wrong, it was pinned on Sammy. Who are they going to believe, their own flesh and blood or some troubled kid they look after?

He grew up, still having a few problems and a mighty bad stutter, but it was better now that he could go over to the estate. Martha would cook him supper and George would drive him to church on Sundays.

He'd wait through the harmonies, hymns and bible verses patiently. If made the world seem less of a daunting place to Sam, Goerge would do it.

The boy was a part of the family. He had a guest room that was undeniably Sam's, they knew everything about him and even bought him a car for his eighteenth birthday.

Sam trusted them too. He loved them, no one had treated him like their own. He went off to college and expected them to have a family when he came back. They didn't. He was beyond upset because he knew they wanted children and they'd be absolutely amazing parents.

He bought a house with his then boyfriend and now husband, I was only a twenty-minute walking distance from the Washingtons' house.

They were a bit apprehensive towards Sam's significant other. Not because he was a boy, no, not that at all. Sam was obviously gay and that was alright.

Sam's boyfriend seemed a tad rebellious. Charles was always a bit apathetic towards them and often stuck close to Samuel at gatherings. The Washingtons warmed up to him, as he made their honorary son very happy and Charles was just a very nervous person. Lee was actually very affectionate and sweet when he was one on one with someone.

When George brought up adoption to Sammy, he clasped his hands together and a wide grin was plastered on his face. He hugged the nervous couple, saying they would do great. Mary clapped and giggled in her high chair.

Martha at this point was set, her maternal instinct taking over. Goerge was sure he wanted this but, was fretting over the little things. What if he made a mistake and made them freak out? What if they ran away or lied to him? What if they were just a bad kid? What if he was a bad parent?

Practically hyperventilating, he drove to Sam's. Goerge rang the doorbell incessantly. It swung open and the entirety of the young family had face masks. Even little Mary. Which made his heart rise. He laughed, nervous tears still left in his eyes.

"George?"

"D-don't let the laughter fool you. I'm still in a state of panic." The man stuttered.

"Oh, goodness. Why?"

"I don't know. I'm going to be a fucking dad!" He whispered the curse, for Mary's sake.

"Oh, um... Come in. Do you want a face mask?"

Washington nodded. Don't judge him, it's relaxing. "Sammy," He paused, "I'm so scared. What do I do?"

"Hm... I'd tell Martha, but since you're here I'm assuming there's an issue with that." Charles comments.

George shook his head, "She's just... I don't want her to think I don't want this. I do. I just think I'll mess them up. This up..."

Sam took this in, "You have had a bit of practice and you're planning on adopting older kids, correct?"

Another nod.

"You'll do fine, but I'll give you some pointers. Charlie, you mind putting Mary to bed?" Lee got up wordlessly. Picking his daughter off her feet. "Now, here is my advice. Treat them like people. Don't pity them, they are not just a sob story. Try and understand where they came from. Don't pressure them into calling you dad, their parents or saying I love you. It takes time. Let them adjust. You're going to do great."


	6. Alexander's Arrival

**{Triggers: Symptoms of former abuse and a panic attack.}**

When Sam first told Alexander about Goerge being a senate member, he was skeptical. Maybe he was just a tool again. Just for political gain and nothing more. A trophy of sorts, that says: 'Hey, look, I'm a good person!' Maybe he'd be used like before just something to fuck around with. Just existing to hurt for someone else's pleasure. It didn't matter. Not really. He thought he was dirty. Who cares. Noone ever cares.

Maybe not. Looking at the clouds from above was calming, he curled up in his seat. Most people think planes are extremely uncomfortable, but it's better than what Alex was used to by a long shot. He fell asleep, curling up and snoring softly.

He stirred, sleeping never lasted long, but Alexander was exhausted. For once, at least, the nightmares didn't wake him.

He was nudged on the shoulder by Sam, "We're here."

"Five more minutes?"

"You can sleep in the car." A bit firm, since he didn't want to hold anything up.

Hamilton sat straight, swallowing hard. "Yes, of course. I am really sorry mister." Reverting back to his learned passive nature. You don't talk back and follow directions, you get hit less. Alexander knew he knew how to play the game and get paid. Maybe live another day, if he's lucky.

Sam didn't realize the difference between Alex and Lexi. They hadn't known each other long, so it was understandable. Still, he scared Hamilton into acting professional or his idea of professional, which is unconditional obedience to anyone. Hamilton exits the plane timidly.

"Charles, Mary, my precious little angel!" Sam ran up to his family. There was another group waving at them and he already felt out of place.

It was loud. He felt like the ceiling was compressing. He'd never been anywhere crowded. Where's Sam? He can't see Sam. He couldn't see anything, but his eyes are wide. It was all just a blur. His breath was coming out quickly now. Why is it so fucking loud? His lungs hurt. He couldn't feel the linoleum flooring, but he knew he'd sunken closer to it. He couldn't feel the tears rolling down his face, but he knew they were there.

He was causing a scene.

Not a half an hour in North America and this is how he was fairing. He was a wreck in the middle of the airport. Crumpled up into a little sobbing ball. A mess, distressed... People were surrounding him now, leering at him with a morbid curiosity in their eyes. Alex heard a deep voice yell for everyone to move aside.

They shaking boy was grateful as the crowd around him cleared. "Shush now, its okay." A sweet feminine voice lulled to him. "You're safe, you're going to be just fine." Hamilton's breathing steadied slowly, the woman sounded like his mother...

He opened his eyes and saw kind faces looking at him with concern. Alexander swallowed and one unisex teenager, offered him a hand. Hamilton shook his head, pushing himself up on his own. "Understandable." The exchange student muttered.

"Sorry, for the inconvenience. You must be the Mr. and Mrs. Washington and Lafayette, correct?" The boy tried hard to mask his accent. It wasn't pretty or European.

"Oh, please, call me George and my wife Martha. No need for formalities." The man smiled brightly.

The French boy spoke up again, "You can call me Laf or Gil or something."

Alex wrung his hands out, nodding. Everyone noticed the way his eyes flicked around fearfully, how malnourished he looked and the bruises on the back of his neck. The couple knew a bit from Sam's phone calls and Laf was told not to comment on anything strange about their new family member.

"Do you want to ride home with us or Sam?" Martha asked, her hair was up in a pretty bun. She had a thin blue sweater on with a white buttoned up blouse underneath.

He shook his head, "I am not good with desitions ma'am."

The family nods, "With us then. We'll make dinner once we get home and show you around. Tomorrow we'll do some shopping." George said.

Samuel caught them before them to say goodbye and talk to the Washingtons. The adults politely asked Laf and Alex to sit in the car. Sam gave them medication Alex needs, recommends some talking points and triggers he'd observed.

Alex attempted to make conversation with Laf, ignoring how he acted getting off the plane. Though the event was still plaster to his brain. "I know a bit of French..."

"Vraiment?" {Really?}

Alex nodded, "Oui, je parle couramment. Réellement." {Yes, I'm fluent. Actually.}

Lafayette smiled, feeling at home using his native tongue. "Combien de langues pouvez-vous parler?" {How many languages can you speak?}

"Español, français and English."

"You're a genius."

Hamilton scoffed, "No, never been a day in school."

Gil's eyes widened, "That's even more impressive! What level of math are you in?"

"I don't know, I found a calculus textbook... I had been studying that." He shrugged.

"You're in a higher math than me and I'm two years your senior. Alex, once you take some tests you'll be considered a prodigy, a high honors student!"

"And that is good?"

"Beyond it."

"Wow... I thought I'd be kindergarten level."

Goerge opened Martha's door for her then got in the driver's seat. "Have you to made friends?"

"Yes, he can speak French and he seems to be extremely smart, he won't have any trouble in school."

Martha looked around. It seemed like no one else remembered the meltdown Alex had. How was he going to do in a public high school? Well, that was for time to tell. "What kind of food do you like?"

"Um... I have no idea."

"Pizza?"

"Never had it, that I remember."

"We need to get him pizza!"

George shakes his head, "Alright."


	7. First Days

**{Triggers: Hints of past trauma.}**

Alex finished supper and got his tour. He was still a little apprehensive. He forgot about that upon seeing the library.

He didn't know houses could have libraries.

Given, he had never been in a home with more than one bedroom. Unless you count the hospital Sam took him to. His eyes were wide. "I like this place. I like this place a lot." He mumbled

He could sense the couple's chipper smiles.

It was night now. Hamilton was exhausted, but he didn't want to sleep. He had nothing to distract himself. The walls were blank, the closets are empty, the bathroom's got just toiletries and its so quiet. He hates the silence.

He can't remember where the library is exactly. Lafayette's room is right across from his, that's all he can remember at two in the morning. Gilbert had said to knock if he needed anything.

Alexander tapped on the door timidly. "Lafayette?" Hamilton didn't really understand privacy. You don't really develop a sense of personal space when you took off your clothes for strangers as a career. He nudged Laf, "Lafayette?"

The older boy groaned, pulling the covers up more. He was still worried despite his grogginess and the darkness in the room. "What do you need?"

"Do you have anything I can read?"

The Frenchman looked at his cell phone. It's 2:50 AM. "No, nothing you'd like. Do you want me to walk you down to the library?"

"Yes, please." The Caribbean kid glanced at his device. "May I ask what that is?"

"An iPhone six."

"Its new then?"

"It's a fossil, now let me get a shirt on." He sighed. Alex stood there. "Could you give me a sec?"

Alexander nodded, "I'm sorry." He stood outside the door. Laf didn't bother binding his chest for the short journey. They just kept the sports bra he had on and threw on an oversized t-shirt.

"Okay now, come on," Laf beckoned. Alex followed. They made their way down the stairwell. He turned into the hall that led the master bedroom, the offices, and the library. He entered the first door on the right. "Tada!" Gil flicked the switch. It didn't trigger any light source.

"I can probably still find- FUCK!" He hit his shin on a coffee table. Gilbert laughed a bit.

"I'll just use the flashlight on my phone. Don't want you getting more bruises."

He pursed his lips, not really responding to the comment. Hamilton got distracted by the phone again. "Is it really old? Like there are better ones?"

"Yes, the Washingtons will probably get you one. They're worried about you." He shrugged.

Alex stopped scanning the titles and stood rigid, "Why?"

Marquis paused, "Uh... How you reacted at the airport... It shook all of us a bit. They were worried about how you'd do in school." He swallowed, feeling terrible. "They told me not to say anything if you acted oddly or if I noticed something... I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable..."

Hamilton nodded, "But you-you said I was a genius... How could I do badly in school?"

"School is a lot different than reading and learning. It's social and behavioral parts they're concerned about."

Another nod. "Thank you... For being honest." The praise made Lafayette recoil. He was a liar and he knew it. He less than untrustworthy. Alex went back to grabbing novels. "I should be honest too. How much do you know?"

"Non, non, you don't have to tell me anything. Maybe at a later date. Besides, it's late. I figure you have a lot to tell."

"You're not a phycologist and I don't want to keep you up."

"Why were you up so early anyway?"

"I don't sleep. My room was boring, so I needed a distraction."

Lafayette could see the younger boy's exhaustion, "You need rest."

Alex's defenses went up. "No, I don't." He hissed through the mental barriers he built. "Back in on the island, I stayed up for seventy-two hours straight working. I'll be fine."

"Alexander, you don't need to do that here! You don't have to be the same person you were..."

His words startled him, Laf understood more than he anticipated. "Yeah... I'll catch some sleep." It was a sentence full of trust as he turned out the door. Gil couldn't help, but smile.

He was led back to his bedroom and Hamilton's internal clock was fucked. Despite this, his eyes closed and he let himself drift off.

The morning came soon enough and Alex was woken up at around noon by Laf knocking on his door. "Come on, I want to go shopping!" Laf is a boy, but going store to store was always fun and he liked to look his best.

Alex groaned but, realized quickly that he needed more clothes than the ones that were on his back. "I'll be downstairs in a bit!" He called, putting on what he had. He rushed to the dining room. "Pancakes?"

"Waffles." George corrected politely.

"It's noon."

"It's lunch."

Alexander smiled, "I wasn't complaining sir." He grabbed some, let's say, brunch.

Hamilton ate very quickly, they didn't mind of course. He needed the nutrients, the boy looked like he was starving.

After the meal, Laf started to get hyped for going to the mall, leading the way out of the house.

Once they got to the plaza, George handed Alexander five hundred dollars. It was the most money he'd ever held. "Since you need clothes, decor for your room and whatever else we figured this would be enough." He then handed Laf two hundred, "Since you aren't buying your whole wardrobe and room, you get a bit less."

Both boys expressed their gratitude for a bit, both of them in shock, before heading into the building. "So, um, where do we head from here?" Alex muttered, still locking st the cash in his hand.

"What do you need? Clothes, right? what do you like to wear?" Maquis asked

"I don't know."

"Oh, oh! Do you want to go to Savers? It's a second-hand shop and I love it!"

Alex shrugged, "I don't need anything to fancy... I just want something functional and warm."

"Okay, let's get you the essentials first." He brought Hamilton into the warehouse-like store. Alex followed Gil to the unused socks and underwear section. "Just get a few packs, they're like a buck."

"Okay. What size am, do you think I should get?"

"Small. I'd say extra small, but you're probably going to fill out a bit." He gestured widely. Laf grabbed a cart and Hamilton plopped his items down. "Now for the fun part!"

Alex raised an eyebrow, "Fun part?"

"Yes, yes, we will find what clothes you like!"

"Warmth. It's colder here."

"Sweaters, sweatshirts, yes... Maybe a dress shirt under it... That'd look cute." Gil murmured, mostly to himself, "They'll completely engulf your form. If that's okay with you, then..."

"It's preferred."

"Onto it then! That is the sweaters section. Go wild, mon ami."


	8. Shopping

**{A/N: I cannot thank you enough for support and compliments. Honestly, guys, it keeps me motivated. If you ever want a prompt or ship written, PM me.}**

Alex, having only spent an eighth of his money on clothes, was dragged along to shops Laf liked. He didn't complain.

While the boy next to him searched absentmindedly threw the store, Laf was having the time of his life. It may seem silly, but he'd never been happy in Europe, so the improvement was drastic.

He jumped around the Sephora. Laf bought highlighter and contour and rejoiced in the fact people saw him as breaking gender roles or buying makeup for someone else. When he expressed interest in anything feminine in France, people would assume he was getting out of his 'phase'.

"Alexander, do you want anything?"

Alex shook his head. "Absolutely not." He didn't need to look nice. He didn't want any extra attention.

Gil shrugged off the odd response. "Why don't about you choose the next store?"

"I don't know anywhere." The boy shrugged. Then he saw it. It was a store full of books and notebooks and nick nacks.

Gil started to list off suggestions, but Alex was already well on his way to the Barnes Noble. "Oh, here then." He paused, stopping for a moment. "Alex, would you mind if I ran to CVS?"

Alexander was kind of reluctant, this was a very new place. "Why?"

He wasn't about to out himself and say he needed tampons. Lafayette didn't understand his own thought process in not bringing them. Was he expecting the Washingtons' to raid his bags? "Uh, um, a... Snacks... A new toothbrush and just like... Stuff." They stammered.

"Yeah. I can handle a bookstore." He waved Laf off, not wanting to seem codependent. Heading into the store, he probably half looked like a lost puppy and half like a little kid on Christmas.

Hamilton took a lot shorter than he expected. He decided not to get any books. Just notebooks and pens and such. He'll wait until he finishes the Washingtons' collection. He checked out, being completely socially inept with the cashier.

Meanwhile, Laf got distracted by a magazine, before making his way over to the counter with ibuprofen, tampons and a 'men's' razor. When he feels all else makes him feel dysphoric, he shaves his face. It just helps, for some reason.

Hamiton made his way to the convenience store. He saw Lafayette buying something strange, he chooses not to mention it. Maybe Martha needed them or something. He was too focused on a notebook he got that said 'write like you're running out of time' to think critically.

Lafayette received a text from Martha to meet at the car. He leads Alex out to the parking lot, while the boy rambled on and off about his new pens.

Martha and George sat next to a desk they bought for Alexander, but that's not what they were grinning about. They handed the boy a black box. "Open it." Martha chirped.

Alex did as he was told and found a sleek new looking phone. "Wow... I... Thank you so much..."

"You're welcome, it's mostly set up too. It has our numbers, plus, Lafayette and Samuel." Mr. Washington grinned happily. "We also got you a desk! How do you like it?"

He had lived in an alleyway for years. Just surrounded by books and whatever he could find to string together a place that he could call livable.

Now he had a room. That has a desk and a bed and mostly not water damaged books. Everyone could see his small smile.

Does he trust them?

Of course not. He's waiting for them to either die or use him. That's how it has gone in Alex's life, the kind die and the cruel use him.

Gil waved a hand in front of his face, which Alex slapped away. "No face!" He yelled, crossing his arms in front of his features to defend from an invisible attack.

Laf covered his mouth, he scared Alex. This kid must be utterly traumatized and he didn't even think. "Non, non, non! I was just trying to get your attention... I..."

"Stay calm, you boys go sit in the car." Martha hummed. They listened. "Alex, can you hear me?"

He nodded, not looking any less defensive.

"No one's going to hit you anywhere here, we'll make sure, okay? We want you to be safe."

His voice shook, but his body was a bit less tense. "I don't know why I did that. I didn't see Laffy and there was just a hand in my face and I got scared." He lowered his arms.

"Can we talk more about this when we get home?" Martha asks, speaking quietly. "With George. We'll figure out a plan, that sound good?"

"Yes, miss." He got back in the car, trembling a bit.

Both of the boys said they were sorry multiple times before Mrs. Washington cut in as a mediator. "Neither of you did anything wrong. I'd skip the apologies."

Does Alex trust Martha?

He's starting too.


	9. Pity Party

**{Trigger warning: Mention of past trauma**

The family got home.

Everyone was still shaken, whereas Alex had mostly gotten over it in the car. It was more normal for him than anyone else.

Alexander was pulled aside by his guardians. "Alex, do you want to talk to us?" Martha asked, George honestly thought he was doing a crap job compared to his wife.

The boy felt a bit cornered. "Um..." It seemed so daunting. "'It'?" He swallowed, scared.

"Alexander, we only know what Sam told us... If you don't want to talk to us, we can get you a professional..." George said.

"I don't need either. I'm not some pity case. I'm fine." Hamilton insisted, "I'm away from all that now. I should be okay for a while..."

"Son," He started. "What's 'all that', what happened?"

"Don't call me son," Alex whispered, under his breath.

"Alright, I apologize." They spread out a bit, in an attempt to make Alex feel less trapped. "Please, understand we're just trying to help. We don't expect you to get over your trauma in this short amount of time."

"Trauma? I don't have trauma! I'm not here for your fucking sympathy!" His fists were clenched tightly. "Guess what? My dad left. My mom died. My brother hates me. My cousin died. I was homeless! Do you want me to scream it from the rooftops!?" Even in his rage-filled state, he was still not telling them everything. He didn't know why he was yelling. They were so nice to him...

The Washingtons stood, wide-eyed. Martha covered her mouth and looked at her completely overwhelmed husband. Neither cut into Alex's rant.

"You do! You just want bragging rights to all your rich fucking friends, 'look we're such great people to take in such a messed up kid'!" He growled, breathing heavily.

"Alexander... We aren't trying to use you..." Is all Martha could muster.

Alexander started crying. He dropped to his knees, sobbing. He'd upset them. They were going to send him back.

"Alex?" George crouched down next to him. "I think you need some rest, okay?" Alex nodded, but didn't move. "Do you just need to cry for a little bit?" Another stiff nod.

"They're so kind to you... Why are you so ungrateful?" He scolded himself.

Martha's sweet voice cut through, "Honey, we understand. We pushed too far."

Alexander eventually stood up and walked to his room without another word.

Back to square one on trust.


	10. Help

Alex started writing in his journal. It did an incredible job calming him. It was half the reason he was still alive. He had his notebook for five years. It was huge.

blood and dirt and tears line the paged. The edges were frayed and the binding was beyond broken.

He wrote and he wrote. Why talk to someone when you can write it down?

Martha knocked on the door. It was the morning now. He hadn't even noticed. "You can come in." George was there too.

"Now, hear us out..." Martha starts and he knows this can't be good. He keeps writing.

"We're going to send you to a therapist," George said, nervous. He didn't let it show in his voice.

"I won't tell them anything that I won't tell you." He scowled. "You don't need to know anything about me... Didn't I tell you enough?"

Martha smiled, "You told us what happened and we're proud of you for that..."

He swallowed, "Why can't you let this be over..."

They both hold back a sigh. "You're still going through it.. We want you to be okay."

"I am okay."

"Please..." It was close to begging.

He swallowed, "Please, don't make me."

"Alexander, it's for your own good."

"I'll stop overreacting and crying. I swear." Alex promised. Martha and George couldn't find the works to tell him that's not why. They left for a bit, needing time to figure out a game plan.

Laf took this time to jump in. "Hello..."

"Hi."

"You know despite the whole thing seeming ludicrous, therapy does help some people." Laf smiled. "I can tell you've been through a lot."

"I haven't. So many others have it worse."

"I don't think that's true. People always invalidate their own experiences... The truth is it's okay to be upset or traumatized. Even if it's over."

He entertained the thought. "You think I should go?"

Lafayette nodded.

He paused for a long time before nodding.


	11. Lafayette's Sunday Call

Laf's phone chimed. Oh, right, Sunday. He can't ignore that his caller history was predominantly telemarketers and his therapist. "Alex, I need to go for a bit."

He picked up his phone. "Hello, Jessica." The boy greeted in French.

"Lafayette! How are you feeling? What has been going on?"

He shrugged, "Not much. I went shopping."

"Made any friends?"

Gil could not now. "Yes. One, he lives with us. His name is Alex!"

"Good, good." She insists. "How's your depression?"

"Two out of ten."

"Urge to self mutilate?"

"Does wanting to cut your body until it looks the right way to count?"

"That's more under dysphoria and dysmorphia."

"I see." He sighed.

"No thoughts of suicide?"

He nodded, feeling this may be counterproductive. "None."

"Sleeping patterns?" Jessica asked.

"Fine."

"Dinner!" He heard a call from downstairs.

"I must go. I'm doing good." She barely fit in a goodbye before he hung up.

He walked down the stairs and saw his little family at the counter. Alex was scratching at his wrist and the Washingtons were fidgeting. The tension was as dense as lead. Both parties at the table were scared to speak.

Laf saw the mushroom cordon bleu on the table. Martha spoke up, "We thought you might feel a bit homesick. So, I made something French!'

"Thank you." Despite his disdain towards France and all he left behind... The gesture, more so the thought was kind.


	12. Mushrooms

**{Trigger Warning: Trouble breathing, not related to panic. }**

Alex had taken a few bites before Laf came into the room. His arm felt itchy.

He ate another bite. He was okay. He just felt a bit sick is all. saying something we be ungrateful. Martha was a great chef. He wouldn't want to insult her.

Alexander had never had this meal. Perhaps, this was normal. He hypothesized that that maybe everyone else felt like this and they've just gotten used to it.

Even if not, he could handle this. What's the worst that could happen? He didn't need help. He felt his breathing falter.

He tried to finish his food. It would be a waste not to. The itching spread.

George looked at him, "Are you alright Alexander?"

He nodded. He'd felt worse. This was child's play. Besides, what's the use in bothering someone?

He went upstairs after putting his plate in the sink.

"Is he okay..?" Laf asked.

"We don't know..." George admitted, slumping. He thought this was an emotional thing.

Martha sighed, "He forgot to take his medicine."

"I'll check on him and bring it up." George asserted. "General?" The Pomeranian mix trotted him and he walked up the stairs.

Alexander felt his throat swell.

"Alex..?" George knocked on his bedroom door. He opened it after a few moments. His eyes widened. "Alex?" He swallowed, "Martha! Call 911..!"

~~~~~~~~~

Alex woke up. Back where he started. He looked around the alley. He sighed and dragged his finger across the ground, looking at the grime that came up. Was he roofied? Was he dead? Alex pulled at his too short shirt.

"I wish." He got up. He walked out of his dull alley, but it was bright and for a second he thought heaven.

Then Alex smelt antiseptic and heard the buzz of fluorescent lights.

"Real life..." He mumbled.

The nurse in the room jumped a bit. "Oh, good... How are you feeling? do you want me to get your family? they're in the lobby."

"Fine... I'm fine. What happened?" Alex assumed she was new. the nurses at the place Sam took him were more brief.

"You had an anaphylactic allergy attack. You could've died or sustained serious brain damage."

"Oh..."

"I'll get your family."

It wasn't a weird feeling to him. To know he could've just ceased to exist. He always felt one day he'd just be gone, but this was different for one reason: Alexander now had something to lose.

Martha, George and Laf came in. No one wanted to be the first one to cast out a question.

Martha broke the silence, "Did you feel bad before you went upstairs?"

"Well.." Alex started.

"Is that why you were itching your wrist?" Laf asked.

"Yeah... Red patches showed up and my throat felt all weird.."

"Why didn't you tell us? Why did you just go up stairs?" George asked, "You could've..."

Alex shrugged. "I didn't think it was a big deal." He looked away, "I thought I could handle it..."

"You can't just 'handle' an allergic reaction."

"I didn't know I had allergies.."

Martha sighed, sitting on the edge of his bed. "You need to tell us when you feel somethings wrong. Even if it seems small. Understand?"

He nodded slowly, "When can we go back to the house?"

"Soon. We can check you out if you feel well enough.." George said.

"I feel fine.. We can head out." He got up.

Alex felt everyone looking at him like he was stupid. "Why are you all staring at me?''

They sighed. At least the kid was alive.


	13. Mannequin Man

School was coming up soon. Laf was a bit nervous. He was quite extroverted and with the short amount of time he spent here he had already gotten better at English. It was more the energy in the house. Lafayette wasn't one to talk about energy or vibes. He wasn't the type to preach about chakras or peddle essential oils, but damn he couldn't escape the thick feeling of anxiety.

It was hovering over everyone besides him. Even the dogs were acting different. He heard Martha and George talking about Alex's social abilities and coping skills.

They really did need to get the kid a therapist. Stat. Poor kid... He seems so defensive and scared.

As much as he wanted to help he was also aware for his own mental health reasons he needed to get out of the house.

It was too tense. He looked at google maps. "Huh.. A river." Laf smiled, nodding to himself, "I could go for a river." He started to walk.

Soon enough he heard the trickle of the stream. It wasn't as calming as he wanted it to be. He could see an apartment complex from where he sat on the bank. He could see some guy in the parking lot and... A mannequin doll..? Laf was concerned and more than a bit intrigued.

He headed that way, "What are you doing?"

The guy jumped, "This must look creepy, huh?"

"Not going to lie, yes."

"I'm just finishing this bodice.. Last few stiches, ya know? I didn't want to keep my mom up or anything, so hear I am."

Laf was always into fashion, "May I see?"

"Of course." He got closer. They seemed about the same age.

"The embroidery is amazing!"

"You really think that?"

"Yes! And the beading.. Who are you making this for?"

"I don't know."

Lafayette tilted his head, "You don't know?"

"Yeah... I just like making things. If someone wants it, I'll give it to them."

"What's your name?" Lafayette liked this guy he seemed interesting.

"Hercules, friends call me Herc. You?" He extended his hand out and Laf shook it.

"Laf." He smiled and glanced at his phone. "My... People will be worried if I'm not home soon!"

"Okay, Laf. Tell your 'people' I said hi?"

"Good-bye!"

Lafayette maybe something that he'd never see this interesting mannequin man again. He was, luckily, wrong.


End file.
